Have you seen?
by violetrobinsons
Summary: Sometimes it's nice to do something out of your comfort zone. Violet attempts to be a tad adventurous and Wilbur gets very intrigued.


It had already been a month since they moved into their new house, but Wilbur still found himself looking through boxes. He shifted through the mess, trying to make his way to the desk that sat in the corner of the room. Empty boxes crunched underneath his feet. Kicking them aside, he trekked forward. He rifled through half-full boxes, hoping to find out where he put his soldering gun. Violet had made sure they had wrapped up anything fragile carefully, and while he was pretty sure that everything made it through the move intact, he wasn't sure where half his supplies were. It didn't help that they decided that most of the boxes be stashed in their home office.

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, pulling an unopened box from next to the desk. The quick scrawl that was virtually illegible. There was a dent in one of the corners, probably from when one of them dropped it on the ground. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the pair of scissors. Carefully, he cut into the box, making sure to not dig too deep. They get caught onto a piece of thick packing paper. Wilbur pulled at the flaps, hoping to uncover his soldering gun, only to find that Violet still hadn't gotten around to putting all the plates in the kitchen.

He pushed the box to the side, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair. Moving was much more frustrating when they actually had stuff.

The sound of footsteps padded into the room, a soft hum following it. Wilbur smiled at the sound, before craning his head around the boxes to see if he could see his wife. She had wandered off to her side of the house, opening the boxes in their bedroom. The last two nights had been sleeping on an uncovered mattress on a rickety bedframe that squeaked whenever one of them moved. The plans to get a new one were on hold until they unpacked all the boxes that were already in the room.

He turned, ready to see Violet leaning over the boxes, quirking a smile at him and making sarcastic remarks about his progress.

"Hey, have you seen the…?"

The words died on his lips. Violet was there, helping herself to the box of plates he shoved away, but instead of quirking a smile, she shot him a sultry gaze. If he expected her in anything, he would have thought that she was dressed in her button down pajamas that swallowed her. The red silk slip that hung to her frame, with a lace cutout on her midsection was a 180 that left him confused and aroused.

"Oh."

He didn't know why she'd be wearing… well, that, but his mouth had dried up. Staring was wrong, he knew that, but did the rules still apply when it was your wife and she knew that you loved and respected her?

"If you keep your mouth open like that, a spider's going to crawl in it," she said, lifting and resting the box on her hip. It pulled the fabric down, making taunt against her skin so that every detail was for show.

She was torturing him, wasn't she? The air felt thicker, warmer. Wilbur felt the blood rise to his ears, the beginnings of an uncomfortable tightness around his pelvic area. They were supposed to be cleaning up and putting things away, but he couldn't help but feel as if she was trying to tempt him. He sat, speechless, drinking in her athletic build and the scars that prominently ran across her skin. She mumbled something, pulling the box in front of herself. A soft whine almost sounded from his lips. Suddenly, she turned, storming off.

Even more confused, he scrambled to his feet. He must have done something wrong. Was it the staring? He didn't know what he did wrong, but he sure wasn't going to leave her mad.

No, he knew exactly what to do

Violet stared at herself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. If she had wanted a full body lookover she would have pulled out the big mirror sitting in a box of its own. The fact of the matter was that she didn't need a big mirror to see the full length of her outfit.

Not since it only just reached the beginning of her thighs.

She pulled at the hem of the slip, the coolness of silk welcoming on her skin. The slip, in its bright red, had been a gift from her bachelorette a couple of weeks ago. She had gotten several things of the like, though many with so little fabric on it that she had to wonder if it classified as lingerie or just pieces of fabric tied to a string. This one, fabric and style-wise, was the best that she got. Lace covered her chest, the silk laying underneath it to keep her from fully being exposed. She placed her hands on her exposed midsection, wondering how they made it so that the lace cutout didn't make her skin itch. Scars from fights could be seen warping the lace pattern underneath, pieces of raised skin raised attention.

This was for fun, she reminded herself. For once she wanted to be sexy and alluring, and damnit nothing was going to stop her. She gave herself a one more look over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before nodding and walking out.

Her feet treaded lightly over the hardwood floors. Standing by the doorway, she could see him leaning over a box. He slumped down, his head turning slightly in her direction. Quickly, she pulled an over a box, leaned down, and tried her best to put a look in her eyes that said _let's fuck_.

She was met with the thundering sound of silence.

His wide eyed gaze of her made her fidget. Not the reaction she was hoping for. She had walked in with the hopes of getting him to at least say some witty one-liner. Heat traveled up her face. The only thing she accomplished was making an idiot out of herself.

She shifted the box from her hip, holding it right in front of her. The heat rising to her face had to be noticeable. Being alluring and sexy was a lot easier in her head.

"So," she nodded, her tone becoming strained. "I'm gonna take these back to where they belong. See ya."

Turning on her heel, she scurried out of the room. The breeze caused from her quick movements was uncomfortable on her exposed skin. _Well this was a_ _ **great**_ _idea._

Footsteps followed suit, the sound of sliding socks against the hardwood. A large thud sounded in the background, probably when his body collided with a wall or something of the sort.

If he was going to apologize, she didn't want to hear it. All she wanted was to slip into her regular pajamas and then look up places where she could burn her terrible decisions. A glass of wine along with that wouldn't hurt.

She dropped the box onto the kitchen counter. Sighing, she let herself lean over the counter before resting her forehead rest along the edge of it. She took in deep breaths, willingly her face to return to its normal color. Hands enter her peripherals, wavering at the edge of her waist.

"Can I?"

His voice came out sounding hoarse and tight. Curiosity piqued, and embarrassment levels already maxed out, Violet shrugged, "Sure."

She felt the hands around her waist, suddenly spinning her out of her position to be facing right in front of him. His eyes had gotten dark, the warm hazel turning into a deep brown. He was eyeing her lips, licking his own. Violet could feel the heat return, but this time it settled in the pit of her stomach. She yelped as he picked her up. He pushed the boxes aside, setting her on the empty space. The counter felt cold on her butt, but with his fingers skimming up her thighs the cold didn't last long.

The space between them all but disappeared, his lips just touching hers.

"Are you sure?"

Ever the gentleman, he asked again. Instead of feeling confused and frazzled, she felt emboldened from Wilbur's attention. Apparently, being sexy was in her wheelhouse. The heat that had rapidly grew stretching from her stomach to in between her legs was telling her to forget about whatever she was thinking before. It made her forget about the scars across her body, littered like sprinkles on an ice cream cone. The insecurity she still fought with whenever she really thought long and hard about herself, gone.

Because she was desirable and currently being lusted after by her newly minted husband, who, she had to admit, was easy on the eyes.

"Yeah," she pushed the word out, only to have her lips to be covered by his. His hands moved from her legs, tangling themselves in her hair. He pushed forwards, and she had to grip the edge to keep herself from falling backwards. She could feel his body pressing against her, the heat spreading like wildfire throughout her body. He bit gently on her lower lip, and she open her mouth to let him in. His hands were already moving again, back to her upper thighs and making their way up.

Pulling away, she rested her forehead against his. She could see his chest heave, his eyes cloudy and distant. If this was how he was going to react, she was going to wear this every night.

"You know," she whispered in between pants, "I was planning on taking this off."

His lips curled into a wicked grin, one side quirked higher than the other.

"I think I could help with that."


End file.
